


until it's all been said

by mmtion



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 01:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11197227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmtion/pseuds/mmtion
Summary: Five times Iris should have told Barry she was pregnant, and the one time she actually did.





	until it's all been said

**Author's Note:**

> just a little fic this week, compliant up to the end of 3a!   
> many thanks again to @sophistiatedloserchick xox

**One.**

Iris has a good memory. A great memory in fact.

She can remember, quite clearly, the conversation where Barry admitted to her, in a small voice, a few months ago, when the topic had come up, that because of the speed-force and whole metahuman thing, kids might be difficult for him. Might not even be possible. Iris held him, and told him it would be okay, and they’d get through it together.

So, forgive her for being a little confused as to how she finds herself sitting on the toilet seat, holding a positive pregnancy test.

Okay, she knows the logistics of it. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, boy gets zapped by lightning, et cetera, et cetera. And she can’t say she’s necessarily blameless in this whole thing - they’d agreed to stop using condoms half a year ago. Recently Iris was in the middle of choosing a new contraceptive than the pill, wanting something that would prevent pregnancies more long-term. (The irony is not lost on her.)

She tilts the stick a little - maybe it’s a trick of the light - but the plus sign remains, bold and clear and inarguable.

They’ve lived in this apartment together for just under two years, aren’t even engaged and haven’t had a discussion past ‘kids are cute, I guess’. They’re still young, and they fight crime on a daily basis! That is no environment to raise a child.

So she’s panicking, just a little. And the only person she could think of discussing this with is her best friend, who happens to be the father, naturally. But how is she supposed to tell him? What is he going to say? What if he doesn’t want it? That thought in particular sets off small pangs of hurt in her gut that she doesn’t really want to explore further.

She hears the front door open, and him call out her name. She looks at her watch and realises with shock that it’s five past seven. She’s been in here over an hour, lost in her own thoughts. Her breath comes quick - before she can think about it too much, she chucks the evidence in the trash, shutting the pedal bin lid with a smack.

“Iris?” He calls again, and she darts over to turn the shower on.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she replies, forcing joviality into her voice. She’ll talk to him about it - when she knows for sure there’s something to talk about. She’s heard all the urban myths about pregnancy sticks coming up positive when really you just have too much protein in your diet, or something.

She’ll get it checked properly, and then she’ll tell him. Definitely.

-

**Two**

Caitlin looks like she’s attempting to cover both elation and sympathy in her expression - it comes across as a wince.

“So it’s true,” Iris guesses flatly.

They’re in STAR labs, because while Iris likes her OB-GYN, Caitlin and her equipment would presumably be more qualified to handle the ‘meta’ part of ‘possible meta-baby’. They’re alone in the large space, Iris having texted Caitlin yesterday to ask for the discrete favour, and Caitlin suggested meeting early enough that no-one else would be around. Iris is supposed to go to work after this, though how she’s supposed to focus when there’s a real, actual fetus growing inside of her, she has no idea.

She’s lying on the medical bed, with various scanners stuck to her, and the usual baby-detecting goo on her stomach.

“You’re four or five weeks along, I’d say,” Caitlin confirms. She then looks at Iris out the corner of her eyes, and hesitates. “That’s not too late to…” She trails off, leaving the option out there, woman to woman.

The thing is Iris does not particularly consider herself a maternal person. She’d thought about the possibility of her own children like a concept, like trying to learn a new language every new year or one day moving to the suburbs. Like picturing a baby with Barry’s smile and crinkling eyes with makes warmth spread in her tummy, but nothing more.

That’s another point to consider, because this isn’t just about her. She knows, deep in her bones, that Barry will be a great father. It’s one of the main reasons she’s been so heartbroken for him when he first told her the likelihood of him being one was slim. Of course, he’d have to cut down on the superhero time, maybe keep the speeding around to a minimum-

She flinches with the thought, some primal instinct throwing a hand to her abdomen. “Barry’s powers,” she breathes. “Will they-” Pass on to the baby? Harm the baby?

Caitlin looks apologetic, having obviously already had the thought. “At this stage, there’s no way of knowing. We’ve never seen a case of a metahuman having a child. We might have a better idea further along, but…” She trails off again.

“But.” Iris echoes, looking down at where her hand still rests on her stomach.

This isn’t a decision she can make without Barry (even though a quiet part of her thinks she already knows the answer). She needs to talk to him.

“It could be dangerous, Iris,” Caitlin adds quietly. “We don’t even know what the pregnancy will be like. The fetus will probably need more nutrients than most if it inherits Barry’s metabolism. The gestation period could be much faster-”

“Wait, gestation period?” Iris repeats. “Faster?”

Caitlin winces. Again. “With Barry’s healing abilities, you might have a much shorter pregnancy. But these are just guesses! Like I say, we’d have to monitor you. But if it’s any consolation, I’d guess, considering your symptoms coinciding with when you noticed your period was late, the growth rate is normal so far.”

Iris relaxes a little at that. But it’s beginning to dawn on her the realities of being pregnant, especially with the Flash’s kid. She’ll have to take time off work, and maybe Jesse could come back to help look after Flash duties so Barry can stay home, and-

She realises she’s very seriously considering it all. Her hand hasn’t left her abdomen.

She’s also remembering that her boyfriend is over six foot, and she knows she’ll be hating those particular genetics when she has to start lugging around his giant baby. She’s gonna have a giant speedster baby, _god_. 

It’ll probably come out feet first, which would just be typical.

“Thanks so much for doing this,” Iris says, bringing herself out of her thoughts as she remembers her manners, and her friend.

“It’s no problem at all,” Caitlin replies. She puts down the baby scanner, or whatever the technical term for it is, so she can gently hold the spare one of Iris’ hands. “And I know you haven’t said anything to Barry yet, but if you ever do want to talk… I’m here for you, is what I’m saying.”

“Thank you,” Iris says, squeezing Caitlin’s offered hand and blaming the hormones on the moisture collecting in her eyes and the spreading warmth in her chest.

“No, dude, I’m telling you, it’s not that Harry Potter couldn’t beat a kaiju, I’m saying that he wouldn’t.”

Cisco and Barry’s argument comes filtering through from the corridor. Caitlin and Iris share on a split-second of panic before snapping into action. Caitlin chucks Iris some paper towels to wipe away the goo as she rips away all the sensors stuck to her, and Iris sits up and hops off the bed.

The two men round the corner just as Iris and Caitlin are both standing, adopting perhaps too-deliberately casual positions.

“Iris!” Barry smiles at the sight of her, which is at least gratifying. She goes to him willingly, pulling him in for a quick kiss and embrace. “You left home early this morning, I didn’t know you were coming here.”

Here’s where she should take him aside. She’s got it all ready in her mind: ‘Can I speak to you privately, Barry?’, just like she’s said so many times before in this very location. But she’s looking up at him, and he’s looking down at her with the same love he always has, and she chickens out. One sentence is going to change their lives forever, and she has no idea how she’s supposed to just say it.

So she smiles brightly, and says, “I have some extra admin to do at the office so I thought I’d pop by on my way. Caitlin, are we still on for coffee tomorrow?” she asks, spinning around to face the other woman.

Caitlin smiles, not an ounce of disapproval or misunderstanding in her eyes. “Of course.”

-

**Three**

She’s going to tell Barry. She is, honestly. But then that metahuman with the wolf powers comes along, and then Barry had to go time-travelling for a bit with the Legends, and then she had a really big deadline for work to do.

No, she’s most certainly not making excuses, how dare you.

But she has a plan. After Thanksgiving, he’ll be happy after all that family time. Maybe she’ll wear the scarlet underwear Barry loves and thought he was being subtle about when he bought it for their anniversary, and it’ll be fine. But first: Thanksgiving at Great-Aunt Denice’s.

It’s the second Thanksgiving Barry and Iris have attended as an official couple, but of course Barry has been a welcome member of the West clan for many years before. The loud chatter and bustle and children shrieking greets them even before the door opens, with Iris’ cousin Aisha looking stressed.

“So glad you made it,” Aisha greets, quickly hugging them both and taking the casserole they brought with them gracefully. “Come in, come in! Joe and Wally are already inside, and-”

She’s cut off by a loud, excited, “Barry!”

In the next second, Barry doubles over with the breath knocked out from him as a small child barrels straight into his abdomen. “Hey Chris,” he says on a weak laugh. Iris can’t help the fond smile that stretches her lips: Chris is the eight year old son of one of Iris’s other cousins, and has always adored Barry with his knowledge of science and comic books. It also doesn’t help that this Thanksgiving, for obvious reasons, she’s feeling extra broody.

Barry throws an apologetic smile back at Iris as he’s dragged away by Chris into the other room, with a firmly held hand and declarations that Barry just has to see, “My new Lego star ship! It has battle laser cannons!”

Aisha elbows Iris. “Come on, Grandma’s in the kitchen, she’ll be so excited to see you.”

Sure enough, Great-Aunt Denise lights up as she sees Iris walk in. “Iris! Oh, you look lovely.” The kitchen is exactly the same as it has been throughout Iris’ life, full of warm colours and terracotta tiles and life, with cousins and siblings chattering away, a pan boiling and drifting scents of food through the air.

Iris leans down to hug her great-aunt from where she sits at the table, squeezing her extra tight. “Hey, Auntie.”

Denise snaps her fingers. “Aisha, love, get Iris a coffee. Make it Irish.”

“Oh, no!” Iris quickly shakes her head.

“I insist - Barry will be fine to drive back, won’t he? And you’re always welcome to stay over.”

Iris shakes her head quickly. “Really, I can’t.” She’s been good so far - no alcohol, and she’s switched her coffee to decaf without Barry noticing. But there’s only so long she’s going to be able to keep the charade up, which is yet another reason why she needs to tell Barry, as shown by the way her Great-Aunt’s eyes narrow.

“You love coffee,” Denise says suspiciously.

Iris has always been a terrible liar, but she makes a valiant effort: “I’m just trying to cut down.”

She obviously inherited her stubbornness from the West side, because Denise replies, “So have a glass of wine.”

Luckily, the other women in the kitchen seem oblivious to the implicit interrogation going on, as Aisha talks to her sister-in-law about the cooking turkey.

Iris sits down opposite Denise, and sighs. “I’m not telling anyone,” she says quietly, and Denise’s entire expression lights up with happiness.

“Oh, Iris,” she says, and admirably keeps her reaction subtle as she reaches over to clasp Iris’ hands. “I’m so happy for you. You two will be fantastic parents, honestly.”

Iris’ lips quirk. “Yeah, Barry’s-”

But she trails off as Barry himself walks in, holding Chris in front of him. He gives her a quick smile, but directs his question to Aisha, asking, “Chris wanted to know if you had any spare flour. We’re going to do an experiment in the backyard.”

Aisha puts her hands on her hips. “You’d better not be making a mess, Allen.”

Barry holds up his hands defensively. “Nope, we’ll be on the lawn, I swear.”

“Alright then.” She grabs a small tupperware box, full of cream-coloured flour, from one of the cupboards, and passes it to Chris, who makes a happy exclamation and runs off to presumably set up the experiment.

Aisha’s sister-in-law, Olivia, smiles and teases, “Barry, how is it that you’re the only guy here without a kid, yet you’re the best with them?”

As Barry goes pink, Aisha laughs. “Yeah, come on, when are you and Iris going to start adding to the West clan?”

Iris freezes. But Barry just laughs awkwardly, not noticing his girlfriend’s discomfort, and says easily, “I think we’re still a way off from that, right, Iris?”

Denise’s look is far too knowing for Iris taste. But Iris just swallows around the sudden lump in her throat, and forces a smile as she says, “Right, babe.”

-

**Four**

It’s 6am, and she’s currently throwing up into their toilet.

Morning sickness is very real, and very much a bitch. She’s trying to be quiet, but there’s only so much she can control, and a bed-headed, drowsy Barry soon appears in the doorway. “You okay, babe?”

She nods weakly, resting her head on the cool toilet seat. He moves to sit down on the other side, sliding down the wall until he reaches the floor. He reaches over to gently comb her hair away from her sticky face, and she wants to cry. (Admittedly, she wants to cry a lot of the time, thanks to the hormones, but the simplicity and unassuming nature of the gesture fills her heart.)

She should tell him. Or, she could let him work it out for himself, let him see the pattern. But she’s still too much of a coward: she doesn’t think she could bear for him to flinch away from her. Or freak out. Or, at this point, be annoyed she didn’t tell him earlier. So she says, “I think it’s just food poisoning. Sorry for waking you.”

He shakes his head at her apology, dismissing it easily as unnecessary. Then he frowns. “We had the same take-out.”

She shrugs. “Speedster metabolism, I guess.”

He winces. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” she manages to say before another wave of nausea hits and she leans up to dry-heave into the basin. Barry holds her hair back and rubs her back, steady and supportive.

“Well,” he says. “I’m going to write a very strongly-worded review on their website.”

“You do that,” she says, rocking back to sit on her feet, wiping at her mouth. “In the meantime, can you pass me the mouthwash?”

But the next morning, and the morning after that, she can’t keep claiming the same excuse, and she needs to come up with one before Barry starts googling the symptoms and arrives at the obvious conclusion.

So she tells him, after doing her own research for other possibilities, that she’s gluten-intolerant.

At the time, it seems a great idea, at least for the time being. She’ll tell him the truth eventually, but she just wants another week to choose the perfect time. Since Thanksgiving, she’s even more worried that he doesn’t think they’re ready for a new addition, or that he’ll completely freak out.

Except now, on top of no fish, soft cheese, caffeine (fuck her life), or alcohol, she also can’t have any bread or normal pasta.

She and Barry make a trip to the local supermarket to kit out the pantry and kitchen with stuff they don’t even need, looking at all the ingredients on packages. Barry, bless his soul, has clearly done his research and memorised all the types of grain that has gluten, and every time Iris picks up an item in hope, he’s quick to put it back on the shelves.

She can’t even have brownies. Seriously, _fuck her life_.

-

**Five**

It’s a slow evening, and they’re in Iris’s favourite place of all: their own little world. She’s curled up underneath his arm and on his lap, resting her head on his collarbone as they watch animal documentaries on Netflix together. It’s quiet, and warm, and the lights are low, and Iris is so content she’s close to dozing.

“This is nice,” she murmurs, and his arm tightens around her in agreement. In fact, she starts to think, this might be the perfect time to tell him. Moments like these remind her how happy she is, how happy they are together, and she’s feeling strong. She could ease him into it, and they’d have the whole night to talk about it.

Then he says, “I love it being the two of us.”

And she feels her bravery disappear. She makes a non-committal noise. “Yeah.”

He continues, in a weirdly jovial tone, “I just- you know, I don’t think anything should change, right?”

She feels hollowed out as she says, “Right.” But no: she needs to tell him at some point. So she says, “But - some changes can be for the better, can’t they?”

“Of course,” he says, and then he says, “But the two of us, we’re pretty perfect right now.”

She hides her face in his chest, closing her eyes so her expression won’t give away the stab of rejection the statement sends to her gut. She’s fully aware that she’s being unfair: how is he supposed to know he’s hurting her when she hasn’t even told him the truth yet?

So she decides not to tell him - again. She’ll tell him tomorrow, she thinks as she nestles closer into him. Tomorrow.

-

**\+ One**

Baby brain is a dangerous thing, and she’ll blame it for what happens next.

The thing is, Barry’s been acting strange over the past few days. He keeps cutting off phone conversations as soon as she comes into the room, and he keeps looking at her with their weird expression she can’t decipher. She even tries talking to her dad about it, but he acts just as squirrelly, telling her to take it up with Barry, and that he doesn’t want to get involved, which is useless, quite frankly.

Then he tells her he’s taking her out for dinner, in a quick tone before literally racing out the door on Flash business, and her stomach sinks.

He’s going to break up with her.

She’s been acting so weird, and keeping this secret from him, that he must think they’ve grown apart. Her mood swings drastically from normal to devastated that she doesn’t even have time to really think it through logically: all she knows is that she has no idea what she’s going to do. She wants to convince him that this is a terrible idea - but does she have the right to make him stay in a relationship he doesn’t want to be in? Maybe she hasn’t put enough effort in: she’s been so self-absorbed with the secret growing inside of her that maybe she hasn’t noticed him pulling away from her, or his mood.

She has to wear a looser dress than she’d usually wear because her tummy is starting to swell - barely noticeable except when she tries to squeeze into one her favourite slinky dresses, which makes her mood further spiral.

She knows from the second she sees him, picking her up from work, that something’s off. He’s nervous, hands fluttering over her tentatively and vibrating randomly. Their conversation is stilted, and awkward, and Iris forgets to order something gluten-free so she has to send her dish back apologetically because of course Barry remembers that lasagna has gluten. He keeps opening his mouth to say something, and then stopping and saying something else. She feels so tense she could burst.

Then, after the date, he says, “I was thinking, maybe we could take a walk?” and she feels her stomach swoop towards her feet. She nods, chin terse, and slips her hand in the elbow he offers as they make their way down the pavement.

It takes her ten minutes to realise the route they’re walking: it’s to her dad’s.

He sits them down on the porch, and she feels her eyes water. He’s dropping her off because he knows she’ll be upset, so her dad can look after her and they can sleep in separate homes. It’s a weirdly kind way to break up with her, and she hates him a little bit for it.

“Iris,” he begins, and actually wipes his hands on his thighs. She could tell him about their little baby growing inside of her - but what if he only stays with her for that? Out of duty, and his own sense of obligation. Would she hate that just as much? Her heart feels like it’s going to pound straight out of her chest and onto the sidewalk. She can’t even bear to look at him. “I love you. So much. I always have - you know this.”

And she does know that. She knows that her whole life with him that she has been his centre, and he is hers. She loves him like she loves the sky, and investigating a story, and warm brownies on a lazy afternoon. She loves him like breathing.

She makes up her mind then and there, looking at the stars, sitting on the porch that holds so many memories for them, that whatever problem Barry apparently thinks they have, she’s not letting him go that easy.

“No.”

“No?” Barry echoes, sounded shocked and a little hurt.  What, did he think she’d agree with him?

“No!” She repeats emphatically, hands curling into fists on her thighs in her resolution. “No, you are not allowed to break up me, I love you too much and I’m having _your_ big, dumb, giant speedster baby, and that is _that_!”

There’s a pause after her outburst.

Iris finally risks looking at him to see his reaction: and then she sees the ring he’s holding.

Her hand raises to cover her mouth in shock. “Oh my god.”

“Iris,” Barry says, his voice croaky. “Can you- what?”

“You’re proposing to me,” she says faintly. “You- that’s what this evening was. And why you’ve been acting so weird.”

“I thought you knew,” he says. “That’s why I was saying that stuff about things not changing, I didn’t want- wait, no, Iris, sorry, I really need you to clarify some things for me.”

Right. That’s fair. She turns her whole body to look at him, and put a hand on his knee. She finally says the words she's been holding back for weeks out loud. “I’m pregnant, Barry. I should’ve told you earlier, but there didn’t seem to be the right time, and-”

She doesn’t even have time to worry about his reaction anymore, because he’s suddenly capturing her in a kiss, the kind that shatters worlds and shows everything he’s feeling. Joy and shock and tears and smiles. He breaks away to rest his forehead on hers, exhaling on a laugh and a grin he can’t control.

“I thought I’d have the biggest news of the night,” he admits, and she laughs, even as tears of happiness are running down her cheeks. How could she have ever doubted him? “God, Iris - you never fail to make me the happiest man in the world, you know that?”

She smiles, and presses forward to kiss him, wanting to be as close as possible to him. She pulls away. “Yes, by the way.”

His eyebrows raise, and then her words actually process, and his grin widens. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she says. “I want to marry you. Of course I do.”

“I love you,” he says, and he holds her hand so he can slip the ring - the beautiful, shining ring - onto her fourth finger. He raises her hand to kiss her on the knuckles. “And I’m going to love our big, dumb, giant speedster baby too.”

-

**(++ One)**

“Twins.” Iris echoes Caitlin’s assessment faintly.

Sure enough, the screen displaying the results of her scan display two, distinct, bean-like shapes, currently growing happily inside her.

“Twins?” she finds herself repeating. She looks up to her left and sees her fiance, honest to god near tears as he stares at the screens. Sure, it’ll all hit Iris like a truck in a moment, but first, “One giant speedster baby wasn’t enough for you?”


End file.
